


Auburn like Flames

by AzraelGFG



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ramsay is his own warning, Uses plot of season 7, trying to fix D&D mess with the love of sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2018-12-09 03:16:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11660493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzraelGFG/pseuds/AzraelGFG
Summary: Sandor travels North with the Brotherhood without Banners. He saw things in the flames. Thinking he has nothing to loose and nothing to fight for he travels with them. When the Brotherhood makes a stop at Winterfell on their journey to the North he mets somebody, he thought dead a long time ago.





	1. Sandor

**Author's Note:**

> Jfyi: I will finish this story. By the time i post this i have already six chapters written, i have an endgame, i just need the plot from Season 7 to work with to write the middle part. So dont think this story is abandoned just because i havent updated for a while. This story WILL be finished.

He had been here before. It was a lifetime ago, but he still remembered the day vividly in his memories.

King Robert had dragged the whole court North to visit his old friend Ned Stark. It had been the first time for Sandor to travel north of the Riverlands, but it had also been the first time he had met _her_.

It felt like an eternity that he had seen her the last time, Sandor thought. 

Her fiery hair had been shining in the green light of the flames. Her eyes had been holding uncertainty and fear as he had offered her to take her with him. 

It had been so long ago, but he still couldn’t forget her.

And now she was gone. First married of to the bloody Imp and now disappeared forever.

The mere thought of the hands of this disgusting little creature on the little bird, made the rage rise inside him. She had deserved happiness and the lions had put her through all the seven hells, within her short life already.

Sandor had thought death would probably be a gift for Sansa. At least this way she would be reunited with her family.

Sandor only knew too well how it was to think death a mercy. He had begged for death when he had lied in bed for months, after Gregor had pressed him into the flames. And he had also begged for death when he had lost against Brienne of bloody Tarth.

 _This little wolfbitch should have just killed me_ , he thought, riding next to Beric. _At least this way I wouldn’t have to freeze my ass off in this bloody cold_.

After Septon Ray’s death, his path had crossed the one of the Brotherhood without Banners again, hunting after the murderers of his friend.

He had gotten his revenge and Beric had convinced him, that his future lied in the North.

Sandor didn’t directly believe Beric’s and Thoros’s tales about the dead and White Walkers, but he had nothing to lose anymore. The Lannisters still wanted his head in the South and he didn’t have the neccessary coin to leave Westeros forever.

If Beric’s and Thoros’s stories were true they would be dead at the end of this winter anyway. Just like the farmer and his daughter Sandor had crossed path when he still had the little birds sister with him.

He and the Brotherhood had crossed the farm and Sandor had been right. They had found the farmer and his daughter dead in their cottage.

Sandor had muttered that he had been right, as he had dug them two graves much to the surprise of the Brotherhood.

“You think we will be welcome here?” Thoros asked Beric as they approached the former Stark castle.

“The men who wanted to take the Black have always been welcome here before,” Beric told him.

“Many things have changed,” Sandor muttered under his breath pulling the yellow cloak of Lem around him.

As soon as they had entered the North they had seen flayed people now and then. The new ruler of the North showed who was in charge now.

Sandor had a strange feeling when they entered the castle. 

Before they entered the main courtyard, they had to ride under a cross with the body of a flayed elderly woman nailed to it. It seems that she wasn’t dead for long, since the blood hadn’t yet frozen on her bare flesh.

The door of the keep opened and a man who obviously must be Lord Bolton came strolled out.

“Who are you?” he asked in a low voice, barely hearable over the cold northern wind.

“We ride North to the Wall to take the Black and fight to defend Westeros from the long night and what comes with it. Every man who wanted to join the Nightswatch was welcomed in Winterfell in the past,” Beric said.

Lord Bolton eyes him with his cold eyes. Sandor knew that Lord Bolton was a dangerous man. 

“Of course, you are allowed to stay here. As Warden of the North I grand the hospitality of this castle for as long as you wish, but I would advise you to leave soon. Winter is coming and we don’t need useless eaters,” he said and Beric thanked him.

Sandor looked around and noticed the number of soldiers on the wall and in the courtyard. 

_They are preparing for war not for winter_ , Sandor thought.

“You are allowed to stay in the guest barrack, but don’t try anything stupid,” Lord Bolton said walked back inside.

***

The barracks were simple, but Sandor had stayed here before.

“We shouldn’t stay too long,” Sandor said.

“Aye, I don’t think we are too welcomed here,” one of the man agreed with him.

“Yes, but we have to wait out the current storms,” Beric said. “As soon as they ended we will continue to travel.”

“Better sooner than later,” Sandor said.

“Afraid Clegane”? Thoros asked.

“I just prefer to keep my skin, rather than having it peeled of me,” Sandor rasped back.

The red priest only chuckled.

Sandor left the barracks and went to the stables to take care of Stranger. When they had traveled north, they had found him in a village they had passed by.

Sandor had thought that his old companion had been lost to him, after his fight in the Vale, but he had returned.

He was still as unruly as before and so he stood alone in a box in the stables.

Stranger obviously enjoyed the brush down and the fresh hay, when some Bolton soldiers came in to take care of their horses.

They were obviously in a good mood. One of them stopped and eyed Stranger impressed.

“That is a giant beast of a horse you have there,” he said.

“Aye. Better don’t come close. He likes to bite off fingers of hands he doesn’t know and like.”

“I´ll keep my distance,” the soldier said.

“What did that old woman do that got flayed?” Sandor asked casually.

“The old serving wench?” the soldier asked. “She tried to help the new Lady Bolton escape the castle and Lord Ramsay wasn’t happy about it.”

Sandor frowned.

“The new Lady Bolton?” he asked.

“Aye, Lord Ramsay married her two weeks ago,” another soldier said with a smirk. “She doesn’t seem to like it too much, you can hear her crying all day long and screaming in the nights.”

“Some even say that Lord Ramsay brought his pet with him for the wedding night,” another said.

“His pet?” Sandor asked.

“Aye, the Greyjoy turncloak. Lord Ramsay made him his new pet.”

The men laughed and Sandor didn’t bother to ask further questions. Sandor finished brushing down his stallion and returned to the barracks where he and the other men of the brotherhood ate their dinner.

***

Sandor hadn’t found much sleep that night. He had believed the soldiers had exaggerate yesterday, but the screams of the new Lady Bolton had echoed through the whole castle and its grounds for the biggest part of the night.

The screams had stopped in the early morning hours and had been replaced with the sound of a weeping woman.

Sandor hated the sound. It reminded him so much of the little bird’s weeping in Kings Landing after her father had been murdered.

He even thought that the sound was familiar.

 _Can’t be_ , Sandor thought rubbing his face. _Sansa is gone_.

He never could forget the eyes of the little bird, the day when he had been standing next to the Iron Throne when Joffrey had ordered Trant to beat her. 

He still remembered that day with shame, remembered that he hadn’t done more for her.

Sandor looked around in the barrack and saw everyone else still asleep.

“Fuck it,” Sandor cursed and got up. He went out into the courtyard where soldiers were already busy preparing horses.

“Hurry up, Lord Ramsay wants everything ready,” one soldier yelled and the men did as commanded.

Sandor saw a smaller man leave the keep. He had a cruel smirk that reminded him on a more sadistic version of Joffrey.

“Let's give Stannis a nice surprise,” he said, after mounting his horse.

After that e left the castle with about twenty men following him.

 _Twenty men_ , Sandor thought amused. _He must really have confidence in them _.__

__The thought of to one of the best military minds in Westeros being stopped by only twenty men seemed ridiculous to Sandor._ _

__Sandor’s eye found what seemed to be a man with dirty rags as clothes. When he narrowed his eyes, he was shocked to see that he saw the heir to the Iron Islands._ _

__A broken man. Nothing reminded Sandor on the arrogant young man he remembered from his visit with King Robert._ _

__He carried a tablet back into the keep and Sandor had no idea why he decided to go after him. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was something else._ _

__Nobody spared him a second glance while he followed the former heir to through the corridors of the keep. Sandor had learned a long time ago how to move between people without being seen._ _

__He stopped at the corner of the next corridor, when he saw Theon unlock the door to a chamber and disappeared inside._ _

__It didn’t take long until he came back outside. He forgot the keys in the lock after locking it again, when some soldiers came around the corner and shooed him away._ _

__Sandor waited a few moments until he couldn’t hear anyone in the distance anymore, then he slowly approached the chamber and unlocked the door. He hesitated for a short moment contemplating if he really wanted to find out what awaited him behind the door._ _

__Sandor slowly opened the door and entered the room. He was greeted by the stench of blood and sweat._ _

__The window shutters were close and nearly no light entered the room._ _

__It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the light. He let his eyes travel through the room and stopped when his eyes found the frame of a young woman on the bed, shivering and curled up._ _

__A candle on the nightstand illuminated her frame revealing her bruise covered arms and the dirty nightgown she was wearing._ _

__Sandors heart started to race when the candle revealed hair auburn like flames. Just like the hair he couldn’t stop thinking about._ _

__´Little bird´ were the only words that escaped his mouth._ _


	2. Sansa

_Its his nature_ , Sansa thought, as she heard Theon put the plate on the table at the other end of the room. _I was stupid to think his treacherous nature had changed. Even after everything Ramsay has done to him_.

She had trusted him and he had betrayed her. Just like he had betrayed Robb, who had trusted him like a brother. 

Sansa had trusted him in her desperation and it had caused her only ally to die painfully by Ramsay hand.

She had been the only kind person in this castle. 

Sansa regretted that she had never asked for her name. She had been kind to her when Sansa had been brought here by Petyr. And she had been the one that had taken care of her on the morning after her wedding night.

After Ramsay had finally left her, after he had been done with Theon in tow in the early hours of the morning, she and Myranda had come in shortly after.

Myranda had only come to feast in Sansa’s pain and humiliation, asking her if she had had a nice wedding night. Sansa hadn’t given her any satisfaction by not reacting to her words.

Myranda had left after she realized she wouldn’t get what she wanted from Sansa, but the elderly lady had given Sansa warm wet clothes, so she had the chance to clean herself up a little.

After that day, she had been locked inside. Theon sometimes came during the day bringing her food and as soon as the sun went down, Ramsay was her only visitor every night.

Every night she swore to herself that she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction to hear her scream, but Ramsay always found new ways to hurt her.

Last night he had been particularly cruel. He had said he needed to show her what happens to an unruly wife.

Sansa had held onto the thought that her little brothers were still alive, while Ramsay forced his way inside over and over again, until she finally felt him empty his seed inside her with some last deep and painful trusts.

He then had leaned close to her ear and whispered that she would have to do without him for a few days, while he dealt with Stannis Baratheon, but he would _make up_ for the time they were separated.

After he had left about an hour ago, Sansa had simply curled up in a tight ball and tried to ignore the constant feeling of soreness. She had tried to keep her tears at bay for a while, but then she couldn’t contain it anymore. Soft sobs made her body shake until she fell asleep.

Sansa didn’t know how long she had managed to sleep until she had been woken by Theon.

She heard him lock the door again and Sansa simply stared at the wall, considering if she should get up to eat something. 

Her blood froze when she heard the door unlock again. Had Ramsay decided not to go? Had he decided to defile her once more before leaving?

Sansa tried to remain calm and pretend to be asleep.

_If he sees my fear it only will be worse_ , Sansa thought pressing her eyes shut.

She heard heavy steps on the floor.

_That can’t be Ramsay_ , Sansa thought and wasn’t sure if she was relieved or scared at the thought that someone had just come into her chamber.

She didn’t hear anything besides the unknown person stepping around in the room until he stopped.

Sansa wasn’t sure what that person was waiting for. If he wanted to ravish her he should get over with it. I could hardly be worse what Ramsay was putting her through every night.

“Little bird.”

It had been a long time she had heard these words the last time. Was this a trick? Maybe it was just one of Ramsay´s games. But how could he know the words the only man who had cared for her in Kings Landing had spoken to her in the privacy of her chamber while the Blackwater had been ablaze.

Sansa hesitantly turned around on the bed, afraid of only seeing Ramsay´s face again, but her view blurred with tears when she saw scared face of Sandor Clegane.

“Is that really you?” Sansa asked and felt the first tear run down her cheek.

“Yes, little bird, it’s me,” he said and quickly walked over to the bed where Sansa had already sat up.

_Please gods, don’t let this be a dream_ , Sansa thought as she saw that his face had a pained expression.

“What has that bastard done to you,” he asked more himself, letting his eyes travel over her.

“He…he…,” Sansa tried to start, but was overwhelmed by everything Ramsay had done to her the last few weeks since they were married. She also felt the heat rise on her face, as the humiliating memory of Theon watching them forced its way into her mind.

“He hurt me,” Sansa finally managed to say and Sandor nodded understanding exactly that Ramsay had done more to her than just hurting her.

“What are you doing here?” Sansa asked him.

“I could ask you the same, but it doesn’t matter now. We have to get you away from here first.”

“We don’t have much time. He will be back tomorrow and will come to me first,” Sansa said.

“I once told you nobody would ever hurt you again or I’ll kill them,” he said and reached out to gently cup her cheek. It had been too long since someone touched her without wanting to cause pain. 

“That promise still stands for me,” he continued.

“What are you going to do?” Sansa asked.

“I´ll figure something out, but we leave tonight. And if I have to kill every single Bolton man in Winterfell then so be it,” he rasped and Sansa felt for the first time in a long time something like a tiny spark of hope glow in her chest at hearing his words.

“What shall I do?” Sansa asked him.

“Be ready. Dress in your warmest clothes and wait for me to return.”

“Will you really come?” Sansa asked. Even if she knew that he had always kept his word, she had been betrayed too often in the past.

“Yes, little bird. I promise. I will get you out of here tonight and nobody will stop me from doing so,” he said _gently_ squeezing her hand.

Sandor went to the door and gave her one last glance after checking if the corridor was empty.

“You should eat Sansa, you will need your strength,” he said before he left.

Sansa watched the door after it had been closed for a few minutes until she got up and ate her already cold meal. She didn’t really taste the food, but simply ate, because Sandor was right about keeping her strength. 

After she had finished her meal she dressed in her warmest dress and took an extra pair of stockings. 

She did the only thing she could do after that. She waited.


	3. Sandor

“We need to talk, Dondarrion,” Sandor said as he entered the barrack, where several men of the brotherhood were already breaking their fast.

“What is it Clegane?”, Beric Dondarrion asked while putting on his eyepatch.

Sandor led him over to a dark corner of the room, so the others wouldn’t hear what he had to say.

“You served Ned Stark once,” Sandor started and Beric nodded.

“His daughter is here.”

“Arya?” Beric asked. 

“No. Sansa. She is married to the Bolton Bastard and is ravished ever since. I will free her and you will help me if Ned Stark ever meant something to you,” Sandor rasped.

“Ned Stark was the most honorable man I knew,” Beric said. “I won’t allow that the daughter of Ned Stark gets abused by the murderers of her brothers and mother,” Dondarrion said.

“So, you will help me?”

“Aye Clegane.”

“If we fail we will most likely end up flayed and tied to some cross,” Sandor said to make sure Beric knew the ultimate consequences of what they were going to do.

“Aye, but we will most likely die anyway in the great fight in the north, so what does it matter if we lose it to free the daughter of the true Warden of the North. What plan do you have in mind Clegane?”

“She is locked into her room. I was lucky to get in this morning undetected, but we need a distraction so I can get her and then ride off. You will have to leave too after. We might meet somewhere outside the castle and the ride as fast and as far as we can away from this castle,” Sandor explained.

“When?”

“We have to do it tonight, or the Bastard will be back to visit his bride,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Alright. Maybe Thoros has some tricks up his sleeve,” Beric said and Sandor nodded.

***

The hours passed slowly while Sandor waited for the evening to fall over the land.

All men of the brotherhood had agreed to help with the distraction, that would hopefully allow Sandor to get Sansa out of this castle.

Since nobody came close to his horse, it hadn’t been hard for him to hide the already packed saddlebacks in Stranger’s box.

Now, all he could do was waiting. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Sansa and felt his anger arise in him against the bastard who had dared to lay hand on her.

He had often asked himself if he should have just taken her from Kings Landing, even though she had refused. 

It pained him that he might have been able to protect her from the fate she now had to endure.

It didn’t matter at this very moment how Sansa had ended up here, married to the bastard of the man who had murdered her brother, but Sandor would kill the bloody bastard who had given her to the Boltons.

Beric had come to him earlier, to tell him how much, what he was doing now, showed what a different man he had become after the Hound died.

Was he different now?

Septon Ray had thought so. He had always refused to believe it. When Ray had asked him, what kept him going the answer was always the same. Hate. But deep inside he felt that something else kept him going.

He pushed these thought away. He had to focus on the things to come. If he didn’t think about everything or made a mistake the little bird would suffer even more than she had before. 

He didn’t care for his own life. His life as soldier had made dead his steady companion.

He and the brotherhood were just eating their dinner and the Bolton soldiers could clearly be heard yelling and cheering in their own barracks.

“It’s time,” was all Beric said, nodding to Sandor and he knew that the moment had come. 

Beric and the rest of the brotherhood would start dozens of fires in all corners of Winterfell to ensure that chaos would spread. 

Sandor would go after Sansa and they would meet the brotherhood north of the castle after their escape.

He left a few minutes after Beric and Thoros, when the first bells started to ring, signaling that something was happening.

Sandor immediately smelled the smoke in the cold air and he suppressed the urge to get as far away as possible as fast as possible. Sansa was counting on him and he wouldn’t let her down.

Winterfell was in chaos. Soldiers ran around everywhere, bumping into servants who tried to get water to extinguish the fires that were burning in several towers, stables and smaller buildings.

He pushed his way towards the great keep and no one noticed him within the chaos.

_So far so good_ , Sandor thought as he carefully walked through the corridors of the ancient keep of the Stark castle.

Despite his size he had learned to move without being noticed by living in the Red Keep for a long time.

In a keep where the walls had ears, you either learn to move without making any noise or don’t move at all.

Sandor waited in an alcove when a few soldiers ran by in a hurry to get outside.

He turned around the corner into the corridor, where Sansa’s chamber was located. He was alerted by the fact that her door was open, when he approached the room. 

He carefully pushed the door open after pulling his dagger. Sandor could hear two voices. One clearly belonged to his little bird and the other one was clearly another woman.

He carefully looked into the chamber and saw Sansa sitting on the bed with the other woman pointing a drawn bow on her. 

They both hadn’t noticed Sandor yet.

“You, didn’t intend to leave, did you, my lady?” The woman said. “Your Lord husband has told me to keep an eye on you while he is away.”

“I know what Ramsay is. I know what he’ll do to me, when he returns. If I’m going to die, let it happen while there’s some of me left.”

“Die? Who said anything about dying? You can’t die yet. Your father was Warden of the North, and Ramsay needs you. Though I suppose he doesn’t need all of you. Just the parts he’ll use to make his heir. Until you’ve given him a boy or two and he’s finished using them. He’s got incredible plans for those parts. So, shall we wait for him to come back, or shall we begin now?”

Sandor tried to step closer, but the door hinge creaked and the woman spun around pointing the bow directly at him.

“Drop that arrow, you bloody girl. Tougher girls than you have tried to kill me,” he growled.

The woman seemed to be taken aback that he didn’t show the slightest bit of fear. Sansa suddenly attacked the woman, who had turned her back on Sansa with something Sandor thought was looking like a corkscrew, making the woman release the arrow when the tool pinched into her shoulder.

The arrow flew by his face and shattered on the stonewall behind him. Before the woman could react, Sandor had already buried his dagger deep into her throat, sending her to the floor, blood spurting from her mortal wound.

Sandor wiped the blood off his dagger, before sheathing it. Sansa didn’t look shocked or even disgusted like Sandor had expected. Instead her face showed…relieve?

“Sansa, are you ready? We don’t have much time,” he rasped and Sansa looked up from the body and nodded to him.

“Get your belongings.”

“I don’t have anything, besides my cloak,” she said. 

_She now can look in my face without fear_ , Sandor thought as Sansa’s blue eyes focused on him.

“Then come,” he said and peeked into the corridor, to check if somebody had come.

To his relieve the corridor was empty and Sansa followed him closely, with her hood pulled over her head.

The castle was still in turmoil and when they left the keep. The fire had jumped over to one granary and nobody had eyes for two people heading for the stables, while hundreds of soldiers and servants desperately tried to extinguish the flames that were burning up their whole stocks for the winter.

Luckily nobody was in the stables and so Sandor was able to quickly ready Stranger. Unfortunately, the soldiers had brought horses outside, when the fires started in case the fire jumped over to the stables, but nobody had dared to come close to Stranger. Sandor only wished that he could have given Sansa a horse of her own.

Didn’t matter, they had to leave quickly, the Boltons might already be aware who started the fire. He only hoped Beric had done good on his promise to sabotage the northern gate, so it couldn’t be closed.

Sandor led Stranger outside and mounted his black stallion, which reared up at being in the open once more, letting Sansa back off a little.

Sandor offered his hand to Sansa and she took it immediately when he lifted her onto the horse.

Heavy smoke lingered in the sky over the castle, as he led Stranger towards the North gate.

Beric had done good to his promise and the gate was open, with several dead Bolton men lying in the muddy snow.

As soon as they were out of the Castle he kicked Stranger into gallop, trying to bring as much distance as possible between Winterfell and his little bird.

Sansa was quiet the whole time. She didn’t speak, nor did she make any other sound. She simply held onto the arm he had put around her middle section.

He rode into the Wolfswood and didn’t stop his horse until he couldn’t hear the bells of Winterfell anymore.

When he finally stopped Stranger after countless hours of riding he noticed that Sansa was asleep, safe and sound leaned back against his chest.


	4. Sansa

The last couple of hours had felt like a dream. Had it been a dream? 

Sansa hadn’t even noticed she had fallen asleep until she was woken up by the neighing of Sandors horse, when he pulled it to a stop.

For a short moment Sansa was confused where she was. 

It was dark and cold. Just like the room she had been locked into. Usually she had simply lain awake freezing until Ramsay came every night to take his husbandly rights. Sometimes she had fallen asleep and had been woken by Ramsay already ripping her shift off her body.

But instead, now, she woke with a strange, unfamiliar warmth against her back. Instead of forceful arms holding her down, she had a strong arm gently wrapped around her middle section.

_It wasn’t a dream_ , Sansa realized relieved. It was like she had gotten a second chance. Sansa had once refused to go with Sandor and it had led her from one hell to another. But now she was with him. He had really taken her from that place, just as he had promised.

And he had killed Myranda. Sansa would never hear her voice mocking her again .

She had so many questions for him. Where had he gone after the Blackwater? Why was he in the North? 

“How late is it?” Sansa asked.

“Don’t know. A few hours after the hour of the wolf I assume,” Sandor rasped. “We need to make camp. I told Dondarion we would wait for him.”

Sansa felt fear rise in her. If the Boltons already noticed her disappearance they would probably already have sent men after them. And if they send note to Ramsay…

“We can’t wait,” Sansa yelped and felt tears rush to her eyes. “They surely are already after us.”

Sandor helped her off his horse and wrapped her in his yellow cloak.

“I’ll not allow anyone of them to take you back to Winterfell,” he rasped. “We have to wait. At least one hour, if they aren’t here by then, we leave.”

“Where are we heading?” Sansa asked.

“Don’t know. Away for now. North probably.”

“My brother is Lord Commander at Castle Black,” Sansa told him. “He will give us shelter.”

“It’s a long way to the Wall, little bird,” Sandor said concerned, while he started to build a small fire.

“Stannis is on his way to Winterfell. There will be a battle between him and the Boltons soon."

“How do you know that?” he asked gesturing her to sit down next to him.

Sansa sat down and stared into the small flames that burned the few dry twigs Sandor had found.

“Ramsay told me. He liked to tell me things like that, after he was done with me for the night,” she said and pulled the cloak closer around her frame.

There was a short moment of silence between them. She was sure Sandor knew exactly what Ramsay had done to her, even without her having to explain it to him. He knew how cruel life could be and it was visible well enough all over her skin. 

“Someday I will ask you why you were in Winterfell and how you ended up with that bloody Bastard,” he rasped and Sansa tensed at hearing him call Ramsay a bastard. She had done it yesterday and she had paid for it the following night, after he had shown her the flayed body of the old servant lady.

Sansa appreciated that Sandor didn’t force her to say anything about her and Ramsay, or how she had ended up in this situation at all right now. The memories were still too fresh.

“Your brother isn’t the only family you have left.”

“I know. My little brothers are alive,” she said and saw Sandor frown.

“Theon told me yesterday that he hadn’t been able to find them. He killed two innocent farmer boys instead and burned the bodies to disguise them as my brothers. He doesn’t know where they went, but at least I know they are alive.”

“I was talking about your sister.”

“Arya?” she asked uncertainly. Sansa had often asked herself if her sister had managed to leave Kings Landing and survive, or if she had died alone somewhere a long time ago already.

“Yes, I found the little wolf when I first ran into the Brotherhood after I left during the Blackwater.”

“I should have gone with you, when you offered to take me with you,” Sansa said quietly. “I am sure we would have gotten to my mother and brother and might even have found Arya. All of this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows if the Red Wedding would have happened or not if you would have been reunited with your family,” Sandor said more to himself than her.

“How did she look like?” she asked. She wanted to know everything about her wild little sister. During the long nights alone in Kings Landing and Winterfell Sansa had often thought how mean she had been to Arya as young girls.

“She was healthy the last time I saw her. Not a lady like you, but you probably didn’t expect anything else. I took her from the Brotherhood and intended to bring her back to your brother and mother, but we came too late,” he said.

Sansa felt tears well in her eyes as she remembered the day she had heard of her mothers and brother’s death. Back then she had overheard two servants snicker about the Red Wedding after she had returned to her chamber, after Tyrion had been called to the Small Council after their stroll through the castle gardens.

“Where did you go after?” she asked wiping away a single tear that escaped her eye, with the back of her hand.

“The Vale. We tried to reach your aunt Lysa, but when we reached the Bloody Gate we were told she had died the week before.”

Sansa couldn’t help but laugh.

“What is it, little bird?”

“I was there just during this time. We were so close to each other,” Sansa said. If Sandor would have been there she might hadn’t gone with Petyr to Winterfell.

“A few days later we ran into some strange woman, who said she was serving your mother. She had the squire of the imp with her and a sword covered with Lannister gold. She demanded your sister, but I refused so we fought. I was weakened by a wound even if I didn’t want to accept it, so she defeated me. I begged your sister to kill me but she left me to die and took my silver. Maybe she went with that wench.”

“You mean Brienne of Tarth?” Sansa asked and Sandor nodded.

“She doesn’t have her. I met her once I traveled north. She offered me her sword, but I didn’t trust her.”

“You had no reason to. Just like me,” Sandor said.

“How did you survive?” she asked him and he told her how he was found by a traveling septon, who then took care of his injuries. He also told her how he helped him build a sept in return and how it ended.

“I tracked these fuckers down to avenge septon Ray and that was when I ran into the Brotherhood once more.”

“What make you decide to go North?” she asked curiously.

“I had nothing left in the South. I have no home. The Lannisters want my head. Everybody I knew at the sept is dead. And after I heard you had disappeared too, after the bloody Lannisters gave you to the Imp I just didn’t care if I would die or not, so Dondarion’s suggestion to go to the Wall wasn’t that bad. At least I would die fighting. It seems it’s the only thing I am good at.”

Sansa felt a strange flutter of her heart at hearing that he had cared for her after he had left her in Kings Landing.

“You are pretty good at saving me. I have never forgotten how you saved me from being raped by the mob during the riot in Kings Landing,” she told him and he shot her a glance that looked like a sad smile.

“Aye, I saved you from that mob. But I haven’t saved you from the Imp.”

Sansa swallowed at the memory of her first husband. He had been kind, but she had also seen the hunger in his eyes when he looked at her.

“Lord Tyrion was kind. He didn’t lay hand on me while our marriage lasted.”

Sandor looked slightly surprised for a short moment. Was he surprised that Lord Tyrion hadn’t taken his rights, or was it that there was actual maybe one decent Lannister?

Sansa had sometimes asked herself, what would have happened if Tyrion hadn’t spared her maidenhead on their wedding night. Would she still have ended up married with Ramsay? She couldn’t decide if her life as Lady Lannister would have been better than her life as Lady Bolton now. 

It didn’t matter in the end. Her innocence had forcefully been taken from her, while Theon had watched doing nothing and now it didn’t matter at all on whose sheet her maidenhead had ended as bloody stain.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Sandor threw snow onto the small fire to extinguish it.

“We waited long enough. The others either have either been caught or can’t make it in time,” he explained getting up from the ground.

Sansa knew what Ramsay would do with them and felt bad that _again _people were dying to save her.__

__“They knew what they were getting into. They agreed to help me, because you are the daughter of your father Sansa. They all admired Ned Stark. They were ready to die for his daughter,” he told her._ _

__“Still they died for me,” she whispered and Sandor placed his hand on her shoulder._ _

__“Aye, I am ready to die too, if it means to keep you save.”_ _

__“Why? Why are you ready to throw away your life for me?” she asked him._ _

__His grey eyes locked with hers and she felt herself blush under his stare._ _

__“It wouldn’t be thrown away for someone you care about.”_ _

__“You care about me? I thought I was just an annoying chirping little bird to you.”_ _

__“You were a young and innocent girl in a cruel world and I was an angry drunkard filled by hate.”_ _

__“And now?”_ _

__“Now I found a new purpose than just hate,” he said and started to prepare his horse._ _

__Sansa let the words sink in and felt a strange urge to hug him._ _

__After he had readied his horse he covered up the sighs of them making rest here before mounting his black beast._ _

__He held out his hand and Sandor lifted her up onto the horse._ _

__“It’s still a long way to the Wall, little bird, but we will make it,” he said before he continued to ride north towards Sansa’s brother._ _


	5. Sandor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one.

They had finally reached Castle Black nearly a week ago. 

The journey had been long and exhausting in the harsh weather, but they had made it without any problems so far.

Neither Beric nor Thoros or anybody else of the Brotherhood had come. They were either already dead or in the hands of the Boltons. 

Sandor hoped that at least some of them had managed to escape and were hiding somewhere in the North.

Sansa had been quiet most of the journey. Sandor had never thought it possible but he missed the sweet chirping of his little bird. 

Most of the time Sansa simply rode silently in front of him or sat by the fire in the evening, his cloak tightly pulled around her, not looking up from the embers that created smoke, rising into the nightly sky.

It hurt Sandor to see Sansa this way. If he asked her something, she only gave short answers, instead of starting to chirp like she had done it in Kings Landing and she barely ever started a conversation, besides a few questions about her sister and what had happened to him.

Sandor noticed that she often fell asleep during the day in the saddle, but barely slept during the night. She woke up at every little sound during the nights in the woods and didn’t calm down until Sandor assured her that they were alone.

He hoped it would get better over time. He couldn’t stand the thought of Sansa not being able to rest, because she feared another nightly visit of her current husband.

Sandor would make sure that he never got the chance to hurt Sansa in any way again.

One morning, halfway to the Wall, he woke up to the sound of Sansa softly crying and laughing, sitting by a close by tree.

Sandor was up in an instant to check if the little bird was alright. Much to his relief she didn’t look scared or in danger.

When he approached her, she showed him the bloody stains that covered the tips of her fingers and he immediately understood what that meant. 

At least the gods had prevented the bastard’s seed from taking root in her womb, he had thought as he helped Sansa up from the snowy ground to ask her if she needed something. 

Of course, Sandor had thought on trying to get moontea for Sansa, but he wasn’t sure if he would have been able to find any this far in the North during the first winter storms.

At least this problem had been crossed off Sandor’s mind every time he looked at Sansa.

***

It had been a cold morning when Brienne of bloody Tarth caught up to them and the boy that had been the Imp’s squire.

Sandor had seen the hate in Brienne’s eyes and he had been ready to fight her. This time he wouldn’t allow her to defeat him.

Before it came to any of this, Sansa was luckily able to prevent any possible bloodshed between them. 

There certainly was tension between him and Brienne during the rest of the journey to Castle Black, even though Sansa reassured Brienne that he had been the one to free her.

Brienne in return told them that Stannis Baratheon had been defeated by the Boltons and that she had killed him by herself for murdering his brother Renly.

Sandor thought it stupid that she still felt this twisted sense of loyalty for a dead king that never had any real claim to the throne.

When Sansa asked her how she had found them, Brienne told her that she had never stopped following her and Littlefinger and that she had been the one to come up with the strange plan of using a candle as a signal.

When Brienne mentioned Littlefinger it was clear to Sandor that he had something to do with why Sansa had been in Winterfell and married to the Bastard. 

He wouldn’t forget that and someday he would kill Littlefinger for it, even if Sansa didn’t tell him anything yet, least to say any details.

He still could feel Brienne’s eyes on him the whole duration of the journey until the moment Sansa ran into her brother’s arm.


	6. Sansa

“The King in the North! The King in the North! The King in the North!”, all the Lords of the North yelled in unity, while Jon arose from his seat next to her. He looked at her to be sure that she was on his side and Sansa smiled at him.

They had won. Winterfell was back in the hands of House Stark, even if it had come at a great cost. Their youngest brother was dead. Killed by Ramsay to lure Jon into his trap. 

Sansa had warned Jon that Ramsay would lay a trap for him, but her brother had known better. She had feared it would happen. That’s why she hadn’t told Jon about her letter to Petyr, asking for help to retake Winterfell as kind of atonement for his mistake with Ramsay. 

Sansa had hated to crawl back to him for help, especially since she knew he would want something in return in some way, even though he had told her he would do anything for her, when she had met him with Brienne in Molestown.

Sansa hadn’t told Sandor about her meeting with Petyr. She was sure Sandor would have killed him on the spot. She had felt the urge to do it too. Sansa would never forgive him. Even if it was the first mistake he had made in his life, it had led to her suffering more than she thought was ever possible. 

Brienne would have killed him too, if she would have given the order, but Sansa wanted to keep him alive for a reason she didn’t understand herself completely. 

Brienne was a loyal person. After all she had followed her North, despite being sent away by Sansa. She had been surprised that Brienne had been the one to come up with the plan of the candle, but Sansa shared Sandor’s opinion, that it wouldn’t have worked anyway, since Brienne wouldn’t have had any chance to get into Winterfell to save her without getting herself killed immediately.

Sansa had send Brienne to contact her great-uncle in Riverrun, but Brienne hadn’t returned yet, with news if the Blackfish would have been able to send support. 

It didn’t matter now. They had taken Winterfell, but it hadnt been the glorious unification of the North Sansa had expected.

All the time she had been told that the North remembers and that she was the key to the North, but when they had actually tried to rally the Lords, that hadn’t already sided with Ramsay, to their side, she had to learn that the North didn’t care for her at all. 

For most she was just Lady Bolton or Lannister, just like Lyanna Mormont had said. She didn’t allow anyone to see how hurt she was by that, but Sandor easily looked through the stony mask she tried to build up.

Every time she was called Lady Bolton she remembered Ramsay and his efforts to put a Bolton child in her. When her moonblood had come during her travel with Sandor, after they fled she had been overwhelmed with happiness. Sansa had no idea what she would have done if Ramsay’s seed would have taken root inside her womb. She wasn’t sure if she would have been able to allow this child to grow up only for it to be a daily reminder of the endless abuse she had to endure by the hand of its father.

The rallying of the Lords had been a debacle. It was worsened by the fact that Jon kept ignoring her suggestions to wait for more men, or to travel to Castle Cerwyn or write to White Harbor. 

Sandor thought Jon’s decisions foolish and Sansa could hardly disagree, even though she didn’t say it out loud. 

On the evening before the battle, after she had argued with Jon, Sansa had asked Sandor to try to protect Jon, but make sure he would come back to her. 

Nobody could protect her, she had told Jon, but Sandor was probably the only one who had ever tried to protect her and if she would have allowed him to take her away from Kings Landing all of this might never have happened at all.

They had won the battle in the end thanks to the knights of the Vale, but the death toll had been high within the men of the North and the Freefolk.

Jon had felt that he owes _her_ the victory and that was probably the reason why he had allowed her to deal with Ramsay in the way she saw fit. She wanted him to suffer and he wanted him to die without the attention he was craving for.

Sansa felt the slightest bit of shame that she had enjoyed to hear him scream, while his own dogs had torn out his throat and feasted on his body. 

When she had walked away, a little smirk playing around her lips, she spotted Sandor standing in the shadows nearby. He had obviously watched the whole spectacle in silence.

Sandor had asked her how she felt now and Sansa said that she honestly didn’t know. It hadn’t felt like the sweetest thing, like Sandor had told her a long time ago. It hadn’t felt like justice for the North too. It had just been the pure urge of Sansa to see him suffer the same way he had made her suffer. 

_I am a part of you now_. These words were gnawing on her. What if he was right? 

She had told Sandor about it and he had assured her that he wasn’t a part of her and that her wish for revenge wasn’t a sign of becoming like Ramsay.

Now her bastard brother was new king, even if she was the trueborn child. The North was hailing him for the defeat of the Boltons, while she only had been the wife of the man that was hated by everyone in the North. 

All the years of her suffering, because she had been regarded as key to the North reduced to absurdity by the speech of a ten year old laying the foundation of making Jon the new King.

Sansa let her eyes travel over the crowd of people. Sandor wasn’t between them. He had preferred to stay away from this gathering. He probably was tending to his horse, or maybe even secretly grieved for the men of the Brotherhood that had died. 

Apparently, Ramsay had taken several members prisoner and had flayed and burned them alive and let their corpses rot as marks on the battlefield. Ser Beric Dondarions and Thoros of Myr’s fate wasn’t clear. Some servants claimed they were dead, but others said they had never been caught by the Boltons.

Sansas eyes landed on Petyr leaning against the wall. 

He didn’t look happy with this development. He had revealed his vision to her earlier in the godswood, when she had tried to clear her mind after meeting Jon on the battlements. Even though Jon had assured her that she was the lady of Winterfell, the power she now held was basically an illusion.

As king in the North, Jon now had all the power in his hands and Petyr obviously knew that too. 

His plan to have her at his side, when he would try to take the Iron Throne had obviously been crossed and Sansa feared what his next plots would be.

Jon was a good man, but he was just as foolishly honorable as their father had been, which gave him a deadly disadvantage in the game of thrones compared to men like Baelish.

Sansa was sure Petyr was already spinning his webs of lies within the walls of her home and she would have to make sure none of them would take fruit.

Sansa had been in the shadows for long enough. She had observed and learned how to play the game. 

This was the great game now and the great game was terrifying, but Sansa was sure she would be able to play and win, especially with Sandor by her side to sooth her fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, S7 is over and i have to say I am disappointed. Visually stunning without question, but the holes in the plot and the logic really annoyed me. the season felt rushed and filled with fanservice imo, while actuall necessary dialogues simply never happened. AND that D&D again managed to avoid any real mentioning of Sansa or Sandor to one another was the worse.
> 
> Anyway, now we are heading in s7 canon with the next chapter to come.


	7. Sandor

The last couple of weeks had been stressful, Sandor had to admit.

As soon as the little bird’s brother had been hailed King in the North, ravens arrived from many Lords of the North, wanting to swear their fidelity to the new king.

Every day Jon held court in the great hall of Winterfell. Sansa, as the Lady of Winterfell, always at his side.

Sandor never bothered with attending the court, even if Sansa always asked him if he wanted to. For he, he maybe would have done it, but he wasn’t sure if he would be able to contain himself from killing Littlefinger, who always stood close to the wall during court with a smirk playing around his lips.

Brienne and Podrick had returned a week ago and she had told Sandor that it had been Littlefinger who had brought the little bird North.

Sandor had been furious when she had told him and he had asked Sansa about it, if it was true. He hated that instead of giving him a straight answer, she said that for now they needed him and the knights of the Vale.

Sandor hated to admit it, but the knights of the Vale had saved him, Jon and the other northerners who had fought with them against the Boltons.

Yesterday Alys Karstark and Ned Umber had arrived to swear loyalty to Jon. As always, Sandor hadn’t attended court and instead left the part of guarding Sansa to Brienne. 

Sandor thought it stupid that Brienne always behaved like she was the true protector of Sansa, despite not being at her side most of the time. It was Sandor who silently walked behind Sansa most of the day, while she attended the duties the the Lady of Winterfell had, while Brienne trained with Podrick or tried to hide from the redheaded Wildling, who obviously was interested in her.

Sansa had told him the same day, after that she had an argument with Jon about how the families who had fought with Ramsay should have been dealt with.

Sandor could completely understand why she didn’t want the Umbers and Karstarks to keep their lands and castles.

If the Starks had taken the lands and the Dreadfort of the Boltons hundreds of years ago, they would never have been able to turn against the Starks once more, when Sansa’s family had been the weakest.

And she would never have had to endure Ramsay’s treatment, if her family had taken down all Boltons in the past.

Of course, it was unfortunate that the argument between Jon and Sansa had made it seemed like the siblings were divided. Sandor of course knew that wasn’t the case, but he could clearly see that Jon actions were limited by what his sense of honor allowed him. Just how limited their father’s actions had been, when he had openly challenged Cersei.

After all, Jon had ignored his battle plan at the earliest moment to save his brother…only to trigger Ramsay’s trap, nearly getting them all killed.

Sandor could clearly see where Sansa’s frustration came from.

She didn’t want them to make the same mistakes their ancestors, brothers and parents had made. Sansa didn’t want them to underestimate their enemies and people they thought allies for now.

Sandor was glad that Sansa was more than aware that Littlefinger wasn’t on their side.

***

Sansa’s brother had decided to meet up with the foreign Dragon Queen and travel to Dragonstone with Davos.

Sansa had told him about the meeting and how even his most loyal supporters like Lyanna Mormont had been upset with his decision. The little bird feared he would end up like her grandfather Rickard and her uncle Brandon, burned by the hands of the Dragons Queens mad father.

Sansa had been surprised when Jon had left her in charge of the North. Not that surprising for Sandor though. 

To leave Sansa in charge had been the most rational decision Jon Snow had made in a long while.

Just before Jon had left for White Harbor he had taken Sandor aside to have a private chat with him.

Jon had told him what Baelish had admitted to Jon down in the crypts earlier that day and had made Sandor promise to protect Sansa at all costs of that treacherous snake.

Even to hear that Littlefucker said he loved Sansa was an insult, after all he had done to Sansa’s family and the little bird herself.

In the following weeks Sandor had never left Sansas side a single time during her daily duties. Much to his satisfaction she excelled in ruling the North, just like Sandor had known she would. 

The little bird’s good heart made her care for the highborns and lowborns alike and Sandor had even overheard Sansa talk back and Littlefinger when he tryed to influence certain decisions of her.

_The littlebird shows that she is a wolf_ , Sandor thought, hiding his smile, while walking a few steps behind Sansa, just when a soldier came running to tell Sansa, she had to come to the gates immediately.

Sandor couldn’t believe his eyes when he spotted Bran Stark surrounded by several guards and peasants in the courtyard of the castle. Sansa immediately hugged her brother after a moment and he saw that all emotions nearly overwhelmed her.

Sandor was happy for her, when he saw her go to the goodwood with her brother to talk. 

He waited at the entrance to the godswood with Brienne for them to return. She was equally glad that Sansa’s brother had returned. It was a silver lining for Sansa that her family wasn’t dead.

When Sansa left the godswood though, she didn’t look as happy anymore.

She held her head high and her lips were pressed into a tight line. Her eyes were looking into the distance. 

Sansa ignored Brienne’s question if everything was in order, but Sandor already knew the answer. 

He still remembered how Sansa had looked the same way in Kings Landing every time she had to hide her true emotions.

Sandor assumed that Sansa wouldn’t want the people of Winterfell to see any emotions break through Sansa’s facade of the Lady of Winterfell.

When Brienne attempted to follow Sansa, Sandor stopped her and told her he would find out what happened.

Sandor followed Sansa a few steps behind all the way to her room in the keep.

Sansa closed the door and Sandor hesitated for a moment to knock. What if she didn’t want to see him?

He knocked three times and waited for Sansa to answer.

Sandor finally heard a soft ´come in´ and he didn’t hesitate to enter her room.


	8. Sansa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Planned to update sooner, but i hope the chapter makes up for the long wait.

_He knows_ Sansa thought as she left the godswood. Her little brother had told her he could see the past and the present, but Sansa hadn’t really believed him, until he started to give away details of the night she wed Ramsay just at the very place they had spoken. 

Sansa hadn’t told anyone of the ceremony and the wedding night afterwards. The humiliating memories still haunted her. It was bad enough to know that Theon had watched them, but to know that Bran had seen it too was too much for her to bear.

She had thought that the memories were buried deep enough within her, but Brans mentioning had made it break free again. 

She felt numb as she walked back to her room. She couldn’t allow the people of Winterfell to see her broken. She was their Lady and their Lady had to be strong.

After she had entered her room, she walked back and forth trying to calm herself. 

The fire was burning in the fireplace and Sansa looked into the flames for a moment, trying to calm her breath. She closed her eyes and felt the heat of the fire on her face. 

_You are safe and Ramsay is dead_ , Sansa thought. _You saw him die. He is dead and gone. His words have disappeared. His House has disappeared._

Only the memories of him didn’t want to disappear.

Sansas thoughts were interrupted by three knocks on the door. Sansa soothed her skirts before turning to the door.

“Come in,” she said in a soft voice and was happy to see Sandor come into the room, closing the door behind him.

Sandor’s eyes held concern, which concerned Sansa in return. 

“Is everything alright?” Sansa asked, fiddling with the chain who was attached to her dress.

“I just wanted to ask you the same in return, little bird,” Sandor said and Sansa offered him a seat on the opposite side of her table, covered in papers and letters.

“Brienne and I were concerned after you left the godswood,” he said. “What is it Sansa?”

Sansa chewed on her lip for a moment, thinking how she should answer this.

“Bran has changed. He is so…cold. Not like the brother I remember,” Sansa started. “He says he sees things. He tried to explain it, but I didn’t really understand until he mentioned he saw my wedding to Ramsay and what he did to me,” Sansa said and felt her heart beat quicker at mentioning Ramsay. 

“He saw everything…”, Sansa whispered. “I hoped the memories would stay buried, but they are everywhere.”

“But you also have happy memories within these walls, little bird,” Sandor said.

“I know, but it’s hard to remember these, when everything around has gone sour.”

Sansa stood up and went to the window, looking down into the courtyard, where several knights of the Vale were sparring with some new guards of Winterfell.

“I am the Lady of Winterfell, but my power is a lie. Jon has all the power and I just manage the castle. He ignores my advices even if they have been right in the past. The Lords are just waiting for Jon to make a mistake and Littlefinger is creeping around like he always does.”

“Why is he still here then. You owe him nothing Sansa.”

“We owe him everything. He brought the Knights of the Vale north. Only with them we won the Battle of the Bastards.”

“That’s the least he could do, after he sold you to the Boltons.”

Sansas face fell. She hadn’t told Sandor that Baelish had given her to the Boltons.

“Who has told you?” Sansa asked carefully. She knew well enough that Sandor would like nothing more than kill Baelish.

“Brienne has told me,” he said. “Why do you allow him to be here?”

“If I keep him close, I have at least the slightest bit of influence on him,” Sansa explained. “He wants me and I have to use this to keep him in line for Jon and the North.”

Sansa sighed.

“And he is not the only one that wants me,” she said. “Don’t think I don’t notice the looks of the men in the castle, I also noticed in the Red Keep. They see a young widow with a large castle. Just like they all always have done. They only see my claim, but not me. Nobody will ever see or love me for something else than Winterfell and now that Bran has returned they will take their chances to drive me into another marriage.”

Sansa turned to Sandor who was listening calmly.

“And do you want to know what is the strangest thing after all that has been done to me?” Sansa asked chuckling.

“What?”

“I want to marry again,” Sansa said and felt like laughing at the absurdity of it. After being forced to marry twice into enemy families. After being defiled more than she could count, she still wanted to start a family on her own.

“I want children on my own. As stupid as this might sound to you,” she said.

“That doesn’t sound stupid Sansa,” Sandor said and his voice sounded softer than ever before. “I won’t allow anyone to harm you again and I will kill anyone who wants to prevent you from having a family.”

Sansa smiled.  
“You are the only one who hasn’t changed. You won’t hurt me.”

“No little bird I won’t hurt you,” he said and got up from his chair. “I will always protect you.”

He meant to take his leave but Sansa swiftly moved and putt herself in his way, locking her door. Sandor frowned at her.

She eyed him closely and his eyes held a never seen before softness.

“Sandor,” she said carefully. “Why are you doing all of this for me?” she asked. Sansa wanted to have an answer to the question of why Sandor continuously helped since a long time. 

“You know why,” he finally admitted.

Sansa bit her lip. 

“Do you love me Sandor?” she asked. Her heart was racing like mad.

“I do,” he simply said. “For a long time,” he added after a short pause.

“Kiss me,” Sansa said in return and didn’t await his answer, but already pulling his face to hers.

Sansa thought her heart was might bursting from her chest at the feeling of his lips on hers. Her fingers stroked through Sandor’s hair and she felt his hands travel over her back, sending shivers down her spine.

Their lips parted and Sansa licked her lips while panting lightly.

“Sansa…” he breathed and his rough voice made a strange warmth pool in her lower belly. The last time she had felt that way had been when she had strolled through the gardens of the Red Keep with Ser Loras.

She was surrounded by Sandor’s scent and it fuelled a longing in her that she had never felt before.

She at first hesitantly grabbed his hand and began to approach the large bed of the lady of Winterfell. 

“Are you sure Sansa?” Sandor asks carefully.

“You won’t hurt me,” Sansa breathed before pressing her lips against his once more.

After their lips parted, Sansa undid her braids to let it fall freely down her back. Sansa started to open the buckle her leather belt around her waist, when Sandor spoke up.

“Are you sure about this?”

“I have never been surer about anything. Look at my dress,” she said and gestured up and down. “It doesn’t reveal much of me. I sewed it that way with purpose. It’s my body and I decide who I show it to. For the first time I am in control of my own body, you understand? I decide who I allow seeing it,” Sansa explained and stepped closer to Sandor.

She lightly tugged on his tunic.

“And I have decided that you will be the one to see me,” she continued. “So, will you finally get rid of your clothes too?”

Sandor obviously seemed to be taken aback by Sansas little speech, but in the end started to unbutton his tunic.

Sansa let her belt fall to the ground, while Sandor got rid of his boots. Sansa felt herself blush at the sight of his broad chest. 

She felt heat flood through her body while she untied her dress and slowly pushed it off her shoulder, until it pooled in a pile around her feet. 

Sansa slowly lifted her eyes and saw Sandor looking at her with his mouth agape wearing only in his breeches. 

Sansa herself only had her shift, smallclothes and stockings left and felt a strange dampness pool between her thighs.

“You are beautiful little bird,” Sandor rasped and Sansa blushed even more.

Sansa pulled back the thick furs on her bed and sat on the edge to get rid of her stockings. Sansa got under the furs before she pulled off her smallclothes and shift letting them fall on the ground next to the bed. 

Sansa pulled the furs up to her chin. She wasn’t yet ready to easily show everything of her to him. She swallowed when she noticed the bulge in Sandor’s breeches, but collected all her courage to speak up.

“Won’t you join me?” she asked and pushed down the furs a little.

Sansa saw him unbuckle his belt and Sansa felt hear breath quicken at the memory how she had heard Ramsay unbuckle his belt after his cold hands had pushed her down onto the furs.

_He is not Ramsay_ , she forced herself to think. _Sandor can’t be more different from him_.

Sandor was still wearing his breeches when he got under the furs with her, getting rid of them after lying next to her.

Sansa could feel the heat his body was radiating next to her and she hesitantly started to let her hand travel over his chest, stroking through his chest hair with her slender fingers, until they rested over his racing heart.

“Touch me Sandor,” Sansa said and she shivered at the excitement of his touch on her skin when his hand began to travel over her belly to her chest.

Sandor turned on his side to get better access and Sansa tensed as she felt his hardness brush against her leg for a moment, but she quickly relaxed once more, when Sandor started to kiss her throat and jawline, while _gently_ kneading her breast under the furs, making her nipples harden.

Soft moans escaped her mouth. Sandor kissed her free breast, teasing her nipple with his tongue before turning his attention back to her throat. Sansa felt his hand leave her breast and stroke over her belly downwards.

Sandor’s finger tips shortly brushed over her southern curls before he stroked over the smooth skin off her thighs, continuing to kiss her.

Sansa threw her head back as she felt his hand travel up the inside of her thigh, until one of his fingers _gently_ travelled alongside her folds. 

Sansa bit her lips as she felt herself become slicker, when Sandor’s finger teased her entranced and brushed over a certain spot making her arch her back.

_This is so different_ , Sansa thought. _No demanding hands and fingers, pinching and forcefully grabbing_.

She moaned a little louder, as she ground herself against his hand. Sansa tried to let her own hands travel over his body as good as she could and she was a little surprised when she felt his manhood twitch as the tips of her fingers brushed over his cock by chance.

“We don’t have to go farther Sansa,” he rasped and Sansa knew that he would stop if she would say the words.

“But I want to,” Sansa assured him and spread her legs a bit wider.

Sandor moved between her legs and kissed her again, as he brushed his cock along her folds, coating himself in her wetness.

He positioned himself at her entrance and his eyes looked at her asking for permission. Sansa pulled him down for another kiss and that was answer enough, for Sandor to slowly and carefully guiding himself inside her. Sansa tensed a little, but the tension quickly left her muscles, when he slowly started to move in and out of her.

Sandor buried his face in the crook of her neck and she felt his hot breath on her skin. She flung her arms around his neck and closed her eyes to be able to completely embrace all the feelings and emotions she felt.

Sandor raised his pace, but suddenly stopped his movement.

“Why are you stopping?” Sansa asked and when she opened her eyes, she noticed that her view of Sandor’s face was blurred. It was then that she noticed tears running down her cheeks.

“You are crying Sansa,” Sandor said with concern clearly in his voice. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” she breathed and smiled at him. “I don’t even know why I cry,” Sansa said and felt a soft sob escape her lips. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him down for another kiss.

“Please, Sandor,” she said after they broke the kiss. “You make me feel good. I didn’t know it could feel this good.”

“Ohh, little bird,” Sandor said and slowly began to move again.

Sansa happily sighed at the way Sandor made her feel. Sansa had been frightened at first at the thought of every sharing the bed with anyone again, but with Sandor was it so different. There were no demanding hands. There was no pain. There was just bliss.

Sandor raised his speed and Sansa felt an unknown warmth spread through her entire body, while it felt like she was tightening around him.

“Sandor…” she moaned and she only heard him breath ´Gods, Sansa´ as she felt him spill his seed with two last deep thrusts.

Sansa stroked with her fingers over his sweaty back, licking her lips, while she panted lightly. Sandor had his head buried in her neck and she felt his hot breath on her damp skin.

_This is how lying with a man is supposed to be_ , Sansa thought happily. 

“I love you, Sandor,” Sansa whispered and she felt him rise his head. Sansa smiled at him and she thought she could see tears well in his eyes, when she stroked through his beard and repeated her words.

Sandor rolled off her and held out his arms for her to snuggle up with him.

With a content sigh, she snuggled up to him and stroked over his chest. She felt warmer than she had felt in a long time and she felt like all pressure of the last months had been lifted off her shoulders.

Sandor held her close and she felt him kiss the crown of her hair.

“Thank you, Sandor, for making me feel good,” Sansa said resting her hand over his heart.

“No need to thank me little bird. You deserve to feel good.”

Sansa shivered a little when a gush of cold air came through the window shutter. Sandor pulled the furs over them and Sansa brushed her foot against his leg. 

_He is so warm_ , Sansa thought happily.

“I don’t want to leave this bed any more today,” Sansa mused.

“Doesn’t the Lady of Winterfell have duties to attend?” Sandor asked in an amused tone.

“She has, but the duties can wait for now. Sometimes the Lady of Winterfell has to think about herself and what she wants.”

Sansa remembered Lords Baelish words a few weeks ago.

_What do you want, that you do not have?_

“And I want exactly this right now,” she said and snuggled closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pls feel free to leave a comment if you notice any typos. I used an online beta tool for the first time for this chapter.


	9. Arya

Arya had never thought to see her family’s Castle again. 

When Hot Pie told her that Jon had taken back the Castle and was now King in the North, Arya hadn’t really believed him, so she had to ridden North to see it for herself. 

And there it was on the horizon. Winterfell. Home.

It had been years since she had left her home as girl and now she was returning as woman. 

While the castle came closer with every step of her horse, she admired how the Winter had changed the landscape. 

_This is the Winter father always talked about_ , Arya thought.

When she reached the castle, she decided to walk the last few meters on foot.

Two guards were at the open gates. Arya didn’t know them.

Arya approaches the main gate on foot. Two guards are huddled by a brazier getting warm. There's indistinct chatter. One of the men notice Arya walking towards the gate and approach her.

“Where are you going?” one of the guards asked as she wanted to pass the gates.

“In there. I live here,” Arya said in a calm voice.

“Fuck off,” the guard spat.

“I'm Arya Stark. This is my home,” she said.

Both men looked at each and started to laugh.

“Arya Stark is dead.”

 _Right_ , Arya thought annoyed. _Nobody knows I am alive_

“Send for Maester Luwin or Ser Rodrick. They'll tell you who I am,” Arya said, hoping these men were still alive.

“There's no Rodrick here and the Maester's name is Wolkan.”

“Go ask Jon Snow then, the King in the North. He's my brother,”

“He's a thousand miles away,” the guard said.

 _Great…_ , Arya thought

“It's cold. We're busy. So, you know, best fuck off.”

“If Jon Snow is gone who is in charge of Winterfell?” Arya asked curiously.

“The Lady of Winterfell, Lady Stark.”

“Which Lady Stark?” Arya asked. Had Jon married this quick?

“You tell us. You're the one impersonating her sister.”

 _Sansa. It had to be Sansa_ , Arya thought.

“Tell Sansa her sister is home.”

“Lady Sansa is too busy to wast her breath on you, just like us. So, for the last time, fuck off,” the guard said annoyed and tried to slap Arya, but she easily managed to move swiftly out of the way, much to the guards surprise.

“I'm getting into this castle one way or another. If I'm not who I say I am, I won't last long. But if I am, and Sansa finds out that you turned me away...” Arya said and let the words linger in the air.

The two guards looked at each other uncertain, before they brought her into the courtyard. 

Arya looked around and only saw unknown faces. All the faces from her childhood were gone. No Hodor tending to the horses. No Maester Luwin carrying news to her father that had arrived via raven. No Ser Rodrick who drilled the new recruits. All dead. All ghosts in her memories.

“You sit there. Right there. Don’t move,” The guard said.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” A rough voice suddenly asked and when she turned she saw a face, she had thought to never see again.

“I asked what you think you are doing?” the Hound asked again.

“This girl says she is the sister of Lady Stark, Ser,” the younger guard said and looked like he about to piss himself.

“I am no bloody ´Ser´ you bugger and this is the sister of Lady Stark,” the Hound rasped and Arya smirked a little.

“Now bugger off,” he said and the guards returned to their post, while the older japed about the younger being scared of the Hound.

“Where the hell are you coming from?” the Hound asked her.

“I could ask you the same. I thought you were dead.”

“I nearly was. Came to finish me this time?”

“No. You are no longer on my list,” Arya said and the Hound huffed.

“Your sister will be happy to see you. Shall I bring you to her?”

“No. Tell her I am here. She will find me,” Arya said and the Hound raised an eyebrow before he left to tell _Lady Stark_ that she was here. 

After Clegane had disappeared inside the keep, Arya made her way into the crypt.

She walked down the countless statues of her ancestors until she reached the tomb with the statue that looked similar to her father.

She observed the statues lineaments, when she heard someone walk to her from the crypt´s entrance and from the corner of her eye, she saw a person stop a few meters from her.

When she turns she thinks it’s the ghost of her mother for a moment. Sansa was taller than father had been and she grown into the beautiful woman, everybody had always said she would.

“Do I have to call you Lady Stark now?” Arya asked.

“Yes,” Sansa said japing and Arya saw that she began to smile.

Sansa walked towards her and then she reached out and hugged Arya. Sansa smelled like she had always smelled. Lavender soap and a hint of lemons.

“Sandor, told me you had trouble with the guards.”

_Why is she calling the Hound by his first name _, Arya thought.__

__“I had no trouble. You need better guards, that know who I am.”_ _

__Sansa smirked at her sister._ _

__“It suits you, Lady Stark,” Arya said and eyed her sister from head to toe. “Jon left you in charge?”_ _

__“He did,” Sansa said. “I hope he comes back soon. I remember how happy he was to see me. When he sees you, his heart will probably stop.”_ _

__Both girls turned and looked at the statue of their father._ _

__“That doesn't look like him. It should have been carved by someone who knew his face,” Arya said calmly._ _

__“Everyone who knew his face is dead.”_ _

__“Not everyone. We're not. And the Hound knew him too.”_ _

__“He did indeed,” Sansa said._ _

__“What is he doing here?” Arya asked curious to hear Sansa´s explanation._ _

__“He saved me in more than one way,” she simply said._ _

__“Did he mention that he travelled with me?”_ _

__“He did and I thanked him for protecting you.”_ _

__“He once said he saved you from being raped in King´s Landing. Is it true?”_ _

__Arya saw that her sister swallowed and looked to the ground, before she grabbed the chain necklace she was wearing, which was attached to her belt._ _

__“He did. He even once offered to take me from King´s Landing, but I refused, because I though Stannis would win the battle of Blackwater Bay,” Sansa said._ _

__“I already asked Jon when I reunited with him, but now I ask you too. Can you forgive me, for how awful I was to you?”_ _

__Arya was taken aback by her sister. She hadn’t expected her to apologize._ _

__“I do, but I hope you are less awful now,” Arya said smirking and her sister smiled at her._ _

__“They say you killed Joffrey. Did you?”_ _

__“I didn’t, but I was there when he died,” her sister explained._ _

__“The people say it was you. I was angry when I heard someone else had done it. However long my list got he was always first.”_ _

__“Your list?” Sansa said uncertain._ _

__“Of people, I'm going to kill.”_ _

__There was a moment of silence before Sansa began to laugh. Arya joined her._ _

___She doesn’t believe me_ , Arya realized._ _

__“How did you get back to Winterfell?” her sister asked and Arya wasn’t sure how to explain it._ _

__“It's a long story. I imagine yours is too.”_ _

__“Yes. It's not a very pleasant one, until Sandor found me,” Sansa said and Arya was more than curious why Sansa mentioned Clegane._ _

__“Mine neither, but our stories aren't over yet.”_ _

__“No, they're not.”_ _

__Sansa pulled her into another hug._ _

__“Arya,” her sister started, leaving their embrace. “Bran's home too.”_ _

__Arya smiled and looked at her sister, but her smile faded when she saw that Sansa didn’t smile back._ _

__“What is it Sansa?”_ _

__“He is changed. He has visions of the past. I can’t really explain it. You have to see for yourself.”_ _

__“Where is he”? Arya asked._ _

__“In the godswood.”_ _

__“I need to see him.”_ _

__The two sisters left the crypt and Arya used the time to ask her sister what happened to Rickon, since she had seen his tomb in the crypts._ _

__Sansa explained to her how Ramsay Bolton had killed him, prior to the Battle of the Bastards._ _

__Bran was sitting next to the Weirwood tree, when they approach. Bran turned to look at them._ _

__“You came home,” Bran simply said._ _

__Arya stepped forward and throws her arms around her little brother._ _

__“I saw you at the crossroads,” Bran said after Arya loosened the embrace._ _

__“You saw me?”_ _

__“I see quite a lot now,” Bran said plainly._ _

__“I told you Bran can see things now,” Sansa said from behind._ _

__“I thought you might go to King's Landing,” Bran continued._ _

__“So, did I.”_ _

__“Why would you go back there?” Sansa asked._ _

__“Cersei is on her list of names.”_ _

__“Who else is on your list?” Sansa asked looking concerned._ _

__“Most of them are dead already. Or off the list.”_ _

__Bran showed them a Valyrian steel dagger and unsheathed it._ _

__“Where did you get this?” Arya asked._ _

__“Littlefinger gave it to me.”_ _

__“Littlefinger, he's here, too?” Arya asked surprised._ _

__Arya turned to look at Sansa._ _

__“He's declared for House Stark and helped us to defeat the Boltons, because he gave me…” Sansa said but changed the topic mid-sentence.  
“Why would he give you a dagger?” Sansa continued._ _

__“He thought I'd want it.”_ _

__“Why?” Sansa asked._ _

__“Because it was meant to kill me.”_ _

__“The cutthroat after your fall?”_ _

__“Why would a cutthroat have a Valyrian steel dagger?” Arya asked._ _

__“Someone very wealthy wanted me dead.”_ _

__“He's not a generous man. He wouldn't give you anything unless he thought he was getting something back,” Sansa said._ _

__“It doesn't matter,” Bran said._ _

__“What do you mean it doesn't matter?” Sansa asked urgently._ _

__“I don't want it,” Bran says and hands the dagger to Arya._ _

__“Are you sure? It's Valyrian steel.”_ _

__“It’s wasted on a cripple.”_ _

__Arya took the dagger and tied its sheath to her belt, before she left the godswood with her siblings._ _

__Arya Stark was finally home._ _


	10. Sansa

Jon had finally written her. The raven had arrived this morning, nearly dead from its flight.

Jon had written that he had made an arrangement with the Dragon Queen, that had included he had to bring proof to her that the threat behind the Wall was real.

According to the letter Jon was heading North to the Wall to catch one of the Night’s King soldiers.

With every day since Jon had left Winterfell the Lords had become more unsettled. They hadn’t liked his idea of meeting with Daenerys Targaryen in the first place, but him now not writing for weeks only fuelled their anger at his decision.

And now it was on Sansa to sooth the waves and listen to them complaining, like she did every day since Jon had left for Dragonstone.

Usually she had no difficulties to listen to them complaining for hours, but today she was distracted by her memories with Sandor from a few days ago.

It had felt so good to share the bed with Sandor. His touches had been so gentle and she had caught herself the last few nights touching her body in the same way Sandor had done. She longed for Sandor to return to her bed. Maybe she would ask him to return tonight. She had never thought she would ever wish a man in her bedchamber at all, but with Sandor it was so different. 

“The King in the North should stay in the north. We did not choose you to rule us, My Lady, but perhaps we should have,” Lord Glover said. 

_When we asked them for help he had said House Stark was dead and now he is crouching in the snow before us_ , Sansa thought. 

The Lords in the hall agreed to Lord Glovers speech.

Lord Royce rose from his seat.

“The Knights of the Vale came here for you, Lady Stark.”

Sansa hesitated for a moment. If she wanted she could take the crown. Winterfell and the North was hers. By right and not because Jon was a generous brother to leave her in charge. But the Lords had elected Jon over her so they now could deal with his decisions. Sansa was just the person to tell the Lords his decisions and she wouldn’t turn on Jon just because the Lords didn’t like his decisions even if Sansa agreed with them.

“You're very kind, my lords, but Jon is our king. He is doing what he thinks is best,” Sansa simply said and spotted Arya standing at the entrance of the great hall.

The men sat down again and started to discuss between each other.

***

After the court Sansa was accompanied by Arya back to her solar.

“I warned Jon this would happen. He can't leave the north and expect it to just sit and wait for him like Ghost.”

Ghost had been more than happy to be reunited with the Stark sisters. Arya had told Sansa how she had met Nymeria in the Riverlands, but how she had been too wild to return with her.

“He didn't. He trusted you to hold it for him,” Arya said.

“Well, he's not making it easy. The northern lords are proud and he reminds them of Robb and him falling for a foreign woman,” Sansa explained to Arya.

They arrived at Sansas rooms and entered. Sansa walked over to her table and put down some papers, Wolkan had given her earlier.

“These are mother and father's chambers,” Arya noticed.

“And?” Sansa simply said.

“Nothing.”

Sansa hated this behaviour of her sister. She had already done it when they had been girls.

“Don't do that,” Sansa said turning to face her sister.

“What?”

“Say what you mean,” Sansa continued.

“You always liked nice things. It made you feel better than everyone,” Arya said. 

“Are you angry with me? For not living in the rooms where Ram… for having these rooms?”

“They were insulting Jon and you sat there and listened.”

Sansa sighed.

“I listened to their complaints, which is my responsibility as Lady of Winterfell.”

“Their opinions are important to you?”

“Of course, they are. Lord Glover has five hundred men. Royce has two thousand. Offend them and Jon loses his army and Jon need his army.”

“Not if they lose their heads first.”

Sansa stared unbelieving at her sister.

“Winterfell didn't just fall into our hands. We took it back, and the Mormonts and the Hornwoods and the Wildlings and the Vale, all of us working together. Now, I'm sure cutting off heads is very satisfying, but that's not the way you get people to work together. Ramsay and Joffrey liked to do the same and we both know how this ended,” Sansa explained to Arya.

“And if Jon doesn't come back, you'll need their support, so you can work together to give you what you really want,” Arya said calmly and Sansa couldn’t believe her sister thought she would turn on Jon.

“How can you even think such a horrible thing?”

“You're thinking it right now. You don't want to be, but the thought just won't go away.”

There was an uncomfortable silence between them while Arya looked intensely at her.

“I have work to do,” Sansa finally said sitting down at her table.

“My lady,” Arya said ironical with an exaggerated curtsy before she took her leave. 

After the door had closed. Sansa thought about what Arya had just told her. She was far more emotional than Sansa had thought. She had seen her deadliness when she had sparred with Brienne. 

If Arya really was going to harm one of the Lords it could start events that would lead the North into another civil war.

Sansa would have to prevent that with all she had.


	11. Sandor

Sandor was mad, while he walked through the corridors of the Stark castle to get on the catwalk that overlooked the main courtyard.

He had seen Arya from a window of the keep and needed to talk to her immediately. 

Yesterday, Sansa had asked him to stay in her chamber overnight. She had told him how Arya accused Sansa to conspire with the Lords against Jon’s reign.

Sandor had seen in Sansa's eyes how scared she was of Arya. And it wasn’t just a weird feeling in Sansa’s guts. Sandor had seen that Sansa was scared to death of her sister that evening. Sandor knew how deadly Arya was, even more now that he had seen her spar against Brienne.

Sandor had no idea if Arya was just paranoid and saw betrayal and treachery in every corner or if she just disliked the idea of Sansa being in charge, because she still thought her the stupid girl she had known when they had been in the capital.

Sansa was still in court, but Arya was awaiting her as she needed to speak to her. Sandor intended to talk to her first. 

Sandor would need all his patience to not immediately start yelling at Sansa's sister as he approached her on the catwalk.

Arya turned for a short moment to look who came before returning to watch the courtyard and the snow silently falling.

“Our father used to watch us from up here. He wouldn't say much. Sansa will probably not remember. She was inside knitting all the time. One time the boys were shooting arrows with Ser Rodrick. I came out here after and Bran had left his bow behind just lying on the ground. Ser Rodrick would have cuffed him if he saw. There was one arrow in the target. There was no one around, just like now. No one to stop me. So, I started shooting. And every shot I had to go out there and get my one arrow and walk back and shoot it again. I wasn't very good. Finally, I hit the bullseye. It could have been the 20th shot or the 50th. I don't remember. But I hit the bullseye and I heard this.”

Arya clapped her hands.

“I looked up and he was standing right here smiling down at me.”

Arya turned to him.

“Why are you here?” she finally asked. “Did Sansa send you, because she is a too coward to come herself?”

“Sansa is the bravest woman I know. She has never been a coward and no, she didn’t send me. She only told me what you accused her yesterday,” he rasped. “What in the seven hells make you think your sister would turn on your brother.”

“I saw her moment of hesitation when the Lords mentioned they should have elected her. I saw the spark in her eyes.”

“And?” Sandor said. “Hesitating doesn’t mean treachery.”

“No, but this means,” Arya said and pulled a raven scroll out of her sleeve.

“Robb, I write to you today with heavy heart. Our good King Robert is dead. Killed from wounds he took in a boar hunt,” she started to read. “Father has been charged with treason. He conspired with Robert's brothers against my beloved Joffrey and tried to steal his throne. The Lannisters are treating me well and providing me with every comfort. I beg you, come to King's Landing, swear fealty to King Joffrey and prevent any strife between the great houses of Lannister and Stark. Your faithful sister, Sansa.”

She put it back into her sleeve. 

“This, is treachery. She helped the Lannisters kill our father.”

“Do you really think your sister wanted your father dead,” Sandor asked plainly and remembered how Sansa had screamed at the sept of Baelor for anyone to stop Ser Illyn. “They forced her to write this letter to your brother.”

“Did they? With a knife at her throat? Did they put her on a rack and stretch her until her bones started to pop?”

“She was just a young girl and you don’t know shit about her time with the Lannisters.”

“So was I. I would have let them kill me before I betrayed my family,” Arya angrily spat.

“Joffrey promised to spare your father, when Sansa asked at court for mercy.”

“And she was stupid enough to believe him. I remember her standing on that platform with Joffrey and Cersei when they dragged father to the block. And I remember you being there too.”

“You were there?” Sandor asked surprised.

“I was there standing in the crowd near Baelor's statue.”

“And what did you do?” Sandor asked challenging. “I don’t remember you come running to your father’s rescue?”

“I wanted to.”

“But you didn't. Just like everyone else that day.”

“I didn't betray him. I didn't betray Robb. I didn't betray our entire family for my beloved Joffrey.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you never had to lie and hide your true self to survive?”

“Never!”

“Not even in Harrenhal, when you served Lord Tywin himself”? Sandor said and Arya’s face fell.

“Don’t look that surprised. I travelled here with the Brotherhood. Thoros told me everything you told him about your time in Harrenhal.”

“That was something different. They tortured and murdered people in Harrenhal to get information of hidden gold or the Brotherhood.”

“And how exactly is that different from Sansa lying to avoid the beating from a Kingsguard she got anyway in the end? You don’t know shit about what your sister has been through, so don’t dare to judge her.”

“So, tell me what she has been through. I know she married two times into enemy families, while her own family was slaughtered.”

“Is that what you think?” Sansa suddenly asked from behind and Sandor turned around to see her a few meters behind him. He hadn’t even heard how she had approached.

“I asked you if that’s what you think about me? That I wanted our family dead? Is that what you accuse me off? Surviving rather than dying alongside mother, Robb or father? Is it a crime that I wanted to live and had to do and endure unspeakable things to manage that? I wept for father, as much as I wept for Robb and mother when I heard the news from the Twins. Do you really think I wanted all of this?” Sansa said calmly, her voice shaking a little mentioning her father, mother and elder brother.

“You should really talk about everything you two have been through,” Sandor rasped. 

The mistrust of the two sisters was caused by not knowing each other’s stories, Sandor realized.

“Where did you get this letter from?” Sansa asked, stepping closer.

Arya hesitated for a moment.

“I found it in Littlefinger's room. He got it from your maester,” Arya said. “I overheard him saying that _you_ asked the maester to bring it to Littlefinger.”

“That’s a lie. I didn’t even know there was a copy of the letter here and why would I ask to Wolkan to give it to Baelish?” Sansa asked.

“Because it would sow mistrust between the Lords who wanted Lady Stark as their Queen yesterday,” Arya said.

“And what would Littlefinger gain by that?” Sandor asked.

Arya shrugged, but Sansa was thinking for a brief moment.

“Everything he always wanted,” she finally said.

“What does that mean, Littlebird?”

“I will tell you, but not here. Let’s go to my solar.”

Sansa lead the way back into the keep and up to her solar, while Sandor tried to make any sense of what he had heard.

Sansa opened the door to her solar and Sandor entered, followed by Sansa's sister, before Sansa closed the door behind them, after making sure nobody had followed them.

“What does Littlefinger want?” Arya asked straight away sitting down in a chair.

“He wants me,” Sansa said. “He wants me at his side. He claims to love me, but he doesn’t like how connected I am to the North and Jon.”

She sighed.

“And to you, Sandor,” she added. “He doesn’t like how I turn to you when I need help or advice rather than to him, like I did before he gave me to the Boltons.”

“Wait. Littlefinger gave you to the Boltons?” Arya asked straight away.

“It’s complicated. The only thing he wants is to have me back under control. He has played all his cards, when he told me his _pretty picture_. I didn’t give him the reaction he wanted and now his hands are tied. He can’t go back to Cersei, but he also can’t drive forward his plans here. He needs new options.”

“And what options does he have?” Sandor asked.

“He needs to drive me back into his arms. He once tried to sow mistrust between me and Jon, when I met him in Mole’s Town. And once more here, before Jon got elected King.”

“Do you think he tried to drive a wedge between you and Arya?” Sandor asked.

“It would make sense. Arya finds a letter, that obviously compromises my lead and undermines my leadership,” Sansa explained and turned to her sister. “He saw how deadly you are while sparing with Brienne. What if he made you find the letter?” Sansa suggested.

“So I would ultimately think you turned on your family,” Arya said.

“To make you threat your sister,” Sandor continued.

“To make me fear you and what you might do to me, if you think me an enemy of our family,” Sansa said. “Asking help from the man who tried to turn us against each other in the first place, hoping he would keep me save if I support his plans.”

“Why didn’t you get rid of him long before then?” Arya asked annoyed.

“We needed him. He controls our cousin Robin. Baelish ordered the Knights of the Vale to ride North and they only did it because of me. Only with the men of the Vale was the Battle of the Bastards won. Jon had lost the battle, but the knights turned it into a victory.”

“And now?” Sandor asked with crossed arms. “What do we do? Let Littlefucker scheme like he wants?”

“No, we won’t,” Sansa said. “We have proof. Arya can prove that Littlefinger schemed behind my back. You, Sandor, have witnessed how he betrayed our father in the capital. You told me yourself how he put the knife to his throat. And I saw how he murdered our aunt. I need to talk with Lord Royce.”

Sansa got up from her chair and wanted to leave but Sandor stopped her, by holding her _gently_ on her arm.

“Talk later to him, little bird. You and your sister should talk first. There can’t be distrust between you. You need to sort shit out,” he said and Sansa looked at him with her huge blue eyes, before she nodded.

Sandor turned to leave and looked once back over his shoulder, seeing Sansa hand Arya a horn of ale, before sitting down next to her by the fireplace.

 _This is how it should be_ , Sandor thought satisfied leaving the sisters to talk.


	12. Sansa

The whole great hall was so silent, Sansa could hear her own heart beat rapidly in her ears, while Littlefinger stared at her in disbelieve.

After she and Arya had discussed their journeys and what they have been through, they spend the rest of the evening talking about their childhood and their lost family members.

Sansa finally got to know her sister for real and she assumed Arya felt the same way. 

_This is what father had wanted for us_.

Sansa had even revealed her relationship with Sandor and Arya hadn’t shown any disapproval against that reveal.

The Stark sisters had decided to put an end to Littlefinger the next day.

They had to make sure Baelish couldn’t talk himself out of justice this time. 

In the early hours of the morning Sansa had talked to Lord Royce and revealed the truth about Lady Arryn's death and her involvement in Jon Arryn's death. Furthermore, how she had ended in hands of the Boltons. 

Lord Royce had understood why she hadn’t revealed the truth about Lysa Arryn's death back in the past and had agreed to support her in bringing down Littlefinger. He would talk to the other Lords of the Vale to bring them to their side.

Sansa had known she needed to lure Baelish into a trap, or he would sense that something was amiss.

While Sandor had made sure everyone would be in the great hall, Sansa had talked to Baelish and he had planted the thought in her mind that Arya would kill her to become Lady of Winterfell. 

He thought his plot successful when Sansa had brought Arya to the great hall, but his face quickly fell when Sansa started to accuse him of the crimes he had committed.

Sansa asked Baelish again.

“Do you deny it?” she said through gritted teeth.

“I deny it! None of you were there to see what happened. None of you knows the truth,” Baelish said.

“You held a knife to his throat,” Sandor rasped. 

“You said ´I warned you not to trust me´,” Bran added.

Baelish came close to her in front of the high table.

“Lady Sansa, I have known you since you were a girl - I've protected you.”

His eyes have the look of desperation Sansa realized.

“Protected me? By selling me to the Boltons? You didn’t protect me. Sandor Clegane protected me. Brienne of Tarth protected me. You never did. You only used me as a pawn for you own agenda,” Sansa said angrily.

“If we could speak alone, I can explain everything,” Baelish pleaded.

“Sometimes when I'm trying to understand a person's motives, I play a little game. I assume the worst. What's the worst reason you have for turning me against my sister? That's what you do, isn't it? That's what you've always done turn family against family, turn sister against sister. That's what you did to our mother and Aunt Lysa, and that's what you tried to do to us,” Sansa said coldly.

“Sansa, please!”

“Many people thought me stupid over the course of my life and all of them underestimated me.”

“Give me a chance to defend myself. I deserve that,” Baelish said before approaching Lord Royce.

“I am Lord Protector of the Vale and I command you to escort me safely back to the Eyrie.”

“I think not,” Lord Royce simply said smirking.

“Sansa, I beg you! I loved your mother since the time I was a boy,” Baelish cried.

“And yet, you betrayed her.” 

“I loved you. More than anyone.”

“And yet, you betrayed me. I know what true love feels like,” Sansa said and shot a short glance to Sandor. “And you never loved me.”

Sansa sighed.

“I learned a lot of lessons from you, Lord Baelish. I will never forget them,” Sansa said and nodded to Arya.

“Sansa…” Baelish started but Arya slit his throat before any other word could leave his mouth.

Sansa blink while she watched the life spurt out of Baelish’s throat.

“The North Remembers,” Sansa whispered the moment Baelish stopped moving.

***

Later that day when Sansa stood on the battlements accompanied by Sandor he told her how proud her father would have been about what her, and her siblings had done today.

Sansa wasn’t sure if her father would have been proud. He would probably be glad that at least four of his children were alive.

After they had headed back inside they found Bran and Arya in the great hall. A raven had arrived from Jon, telling he was coming back home with Daenerys.

If Jon returned North it could only mean that the war against the dead was entering its next phase and Sansa had to take care of one thing she was thinking about since the first time Sandor had told her that he loved her.

***

The snow fell silently and some twigs cracked under her boots, while she walked the way to the weirwood tree, where Sandor was already waiting with Arya and Bran.

“Who comes before the old gods?” Arya asked.

“Sansa of House Stark comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes here to ask the blessing of the gods. Who comes to claim her?” Sansa said smiling.

“Sandor of House Clegane.”

“Do you take this man?” Arya asked.

“I take this man,” Sansa said and Sandor _gently_ cupped her cheek with his hand, before he kissed her.

“You look beautiful Sansa,” Bran spoke up. “Just like Jon’s mother Lyanna looked, when she married Rhaegar Targaryen.”

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that story is done now, but i will write a sequel, continuing stories of these characters, based on the shit D&D will try to sell us as 8th season. See you with the sequel when the season airs.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment if you like


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